


Serpent's Appeal

by CorsetJinx



Series: We never asked to be heroes [10]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Cruelty, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Power Imbalance, Scheming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14214033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorsetJinx/pseuds/CorsetJinx
Summary: The arrival of the Garlean ambassador sets things in motion. Pleasantries and hopes of peace aside, there is something like a gleam in Asahi sas Brutus’ eyes that should not belong to a man on a diplomatic errand.





	1. Chapter 1

It takes a supreme effort of will to keep the smile on his face as Hien leads the group through the sad building acting as the Doman headquarters. Scars of war are still distractingly obvious. It shows in the missing tiles on the roof, the splintered beams yet to be cleared away, how dust clings to the floors and paper screens separating the rooms. But Asahi bears it, keeps his face pleasantly open and politely distant.

This is nothing more than a stepping stone to the Empire’s greatness. If it requires him to sink to the level of savages and look upon the wreckage of the home he left behind years ago, then he will do it. For his Emperor. For Garlemald. Most of all, for _Lord Zenos_ , their most radiant Prince.

As the negotiations resume Asahi allows his eyes to trail over the group that make up Eorzea’s champions. The so-called _Warriors of Light_. He counts no less than four au ra, a hyur - a human like himself, four miqo'te, a roegaydyn, an elezen black mage with a… peculiar air about him, a lalafell at the elezen’s side looking rather bored with the proceedings, and a small woman who seems to be of mixed elezen and hyur heritage.

Deep within, Asahi sneers with disgust. They are a gaggle of the Spoken Races, these proclaimed heroes. These eikon-slayers and saviors.

Just looking at them reaffirms that the Garlean Empire is superior. That they will crush these upstarts and grind them back into the mud where the savages belong.

Asahi smiles, sweet and gracious, and assures all present that the reason for his presence is in the name of peace.

* * *

It takes time, aye, to pick out which of the heroes to approach. The au ra track him with their eyes - even the one called Akemi, who makes a show of keeping his own eyes closed. They distrust him, but that is fine. Asahi contemplates approaching one of the miqo'te - as their race is said to be fairly personable, to an extent.

He does not think the one called M'arach will be of much use. An astrologian’s talents are not what Asahi requires. Asahi also does mot trust the hyur in spiked blue-black armor that observes him from the miqo'te’s side. One of the knight’s eyes is a crystalline spurred ruin, Asahi learns, but it is the other hyur’s remaining eye that gives Asahi pause.

This man, Dusk, is too great of a wild card to trust in. In his eye there is a sort of recognition for what Asahi intends, the look of a person who is used to others bearing sweet words and promises of friendship; only revealing the dagger in their other hand the moment one’s guard is lowered.

It makes no difference.

The miqo'te red mage gives off an air of quiet hostility. Asahi avoids him as much as one can without being rude. Jordine, it seems, keeps himself apart from the group but is adept at his own defense from outside threats.

Briefly, Asahi considers the black-haired samurai. One of the Moon tribe of the cat-eared savages, if the shape of the lad’s pupils and the tiny glimpse of pointed fangs is to be believed. But the young man is mute, Asahi learns, and speaks through sign and the interpretation of the wind-up mammet he carries on one shoulder.

_Useless._

Of the miqo'te, that leaves the only female. _Simone._ But she is tightly wound about the leader of the group’s fingers and visa versa.

Opportunity smiles upon him, however, the night of the welcoming banquet. The mixed woman happens to be alone, distracted, and easy to engage in conversation once initial introductions are made.

Her name is Marlene. She is more of a scholar than a warrior, recently a master of the healing arts and possesses a knack for translating languages. Asahi smiles, telling her of Garlemald’s vast libraries and where the great schools of knowledge once were in Doma, before the war.

She is small. Sweet. She blushes faintly at compliments and is eager to share knowledge about his birthplace - weak, disgusting, disposable _**trash**_ that it is.

Best of all, she is not followed by her companions as closely as some of the others are.

_Perfect._

* * *

The gods smile upon him once again, for in the coming days the Doman reconstruction effort asks that it’s allies send what help they can through the Yanxia region. Miles of rolling hills and fields, dotted sparsely with settlements, only just beginning to recover from the destruction Garlemald had unleashed.

Eorzea’s champions agree to split up to make the task easier. Asahi volunteers his aid, citing that he wishes to see his birthplace restored to its former glory. The savages swallow the lie, to varying degrees. By fortune or the gods’ own design he is allowed to accompany Marlene.

Hien’s second, an au ri woman and a _shinobi_ besides, makes up the third part of their group. Yugiri makes it no secret that she does not trust Asahi, but her stance and tone are polite when she must address him.

He is, after all, an ambassador. Doma cannot afford to make enemies at this point. They would not survive a second march of Garlean soldiers within their borders.

Marlene, pushing her glasses up with the tips of her fingers, counts and recounts her potions and ethers before announcing she is ready.

Asahi bows from the waist, smiles, and promises to assist in any way he can.

* * *

They stop at what feels like every hamlet and shack on the road. Asahi keeps from grinding his teeth by sheer force of will, pats the head of a child he rescued from bandits with more affection than he truly feels. The girl, she cannot be more than six summers old, her yellow haori smeared with dust and grime, smiles back timidly at first. By the time Marlene is done healing the girl’s brother of his wounds, the child is skipping and laughing around them.

Yugiri, stoic up to then save for the times Marlene speaks, smiles as though the child’s levity is a balm to her soul.

Asahi wants to be rid of them. All of them. His katana weighs on his hip and it would be _so easy_ to cut the girl and her brother down and be done with it.

But this game requires patience. He has already come far. To give into base frustration now would ruin everything.

Marlene smiles at him, tells him that he is good with children and the genuine sparkle in her eyes turns his stomach.

Asahi lowers his head and chuckles, humble, and says that the smile of every child is precious and ought to be protected.

He spits on the roadside, later, to get the taste of the words out of his mouth.

* * *

The weeks pass and finally, _finally_ , he is given the opening that he needs. Yugiri is gone, to hunt, and the fire is merrily cracking at the center of their camp. Marlene looks up just as he leans over and kisses back like an innocent when Asahi brings their mouths together.

She has no true home, he has learned. A bastard daughter of two races, elezen and hyur; allowed entry into Gridania only under the yoke of indentured servitude. Marlene is no stranger to the threat of Garlean steel or the pressure of a boot on the back of her neck. But somehow, like a fool, she believes miracles are possible.

_Peace._ As though the might of Garlemald could ever be stopped, or swayed, from its goal. As though the Emperor would deign to let the savages of Eorzea continue to flit about unchecked, unbroken, free and able to summon their heathen gods in the form of primals.

He pushes those thoughts aside. Slowly drags his fingers through her short, downy hair. Traces the delicate pointed tips of her ears and smiles at the longing shudder it wrenches from her.

The vaunted _Warrior of Light_ , one of them at least, reduced to a quietly panting mess by his kisses and words.

There _is_ a thrill to it. Almost enough to chase away the sourness of laying with a savage. She does not even possess the thin saving grace of Doman features. Marlene is altogether foreign, from the lilting shape of her words to the darkness of her skin.

Asahi kisses her once more before bed, after the deed and Yugiri’s return. Marlene still hesitates before leaning into the affection, but she has the glow of a smitten woman as they part.

He lays down in his own tent and scrubs the feeling of her lips from his with the back of his hand.

* * *

The time of their parting has come. Most of the savages look faintly pleased, but Asahi pays them little mind. He has the knowledge that he needs. His return to Garlemald will be a success, another cog in the great war machine that shall conquer the world.

He does beg a moment to say farewell from Hien, keeping his voice soft and light. Due respect must be paid, after all, to the one who had shown him such kindness during his travels. The Lord of Doma agrees, taking his second aside to speak where they shall not be within range to overhear.

Marlene’s fellows slowly disperse into smaller groups of their own. The au ra and miqo'te cling together where they are so inclined, leaving the roe to discuss something with the elezen and his lalafell companion. Dusk lingers beside Jordine, silent.

He and Marlene are as alone as they can possibly be. Asahi suspects, no, is certain, that Hien’s shinobi _knows_ what has transpired between Marlene and himself.

_Good._

Marlene smiles sadly at him as he turns back to her, her hands folded before her to quell any fidgeting. He had expected her to cry, honestly, given how easily tears came to her upon witnessing the ravages in Yanxia.

Asahi drops the smile, features twisting with the hate and rage he has been suppressing up to this point.

_“Mark me, savior of the savages.”_ He hisses, threatening her personal space. _“There will be a reckoning.”_

Watching her draw back in alarm is the sweetest of victories, drowning out all of the humiliation he has suffered since coming back to Doma.

_“My Lord Zenos is to be our guiding star. He shall lead us into a new golden age.”_ Asahi sneers. Oh but had they been truly alone he might have taken her chin in his hand to drive the point further home. _“Your light is **nothing** compared to his radiance.”_

There are tears in Marlene’s eyes, silently trickling down her stunned face. Under the hurt and betrayal there is the flicker of anger. Asahi drinks in the sight with pleasure.

_“Go on,”_ He goads, grinning now. _“Strike me. An **emissary**. The Garlean Empire will break your pitiful resistance and crush your allies into the mire. Where you belong.”_

Watching her, desperately wishing she would take the bait, Asahi calms himself. Stepping back, he arranges his features into the amiable mask once more. Hien and Yugiri are turning towards them. Her companions, savages all, are moving to face them as well.

“Alas,” Asahi shakes his head, “It is time for me to go. Would that I could remain and see the peace between our peoples take root… but I must report to the Emperor.”

No one stops him as he turns away, leisurely strolling towards the airship. His guards are none the wiser as he bids Hien and his allies a last farewell. They successfully take off and Asahi reclines in his seat with a satisfied smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the Emperor’s approval, Asahi returns to Doma in order to set the stage for the next round of negotiations. Yet it the temptation to antagonize the one he has hurt proves too great.

There is enough to do after Asahi leaves that Marlene can forget about the sting of his rejection. Of betrayal. She manages not to break down completely in front of everyone - by the gods, the last person she wished to be seen like that was Hien and Yugiri of all people. But later, alone in her room, the tears are free flowing.

It hurts, even as she tells herself that perhaps she ought to have seen it coming. Asahi sas Brutus differed very little from his step-sister it seemed. That he might have grown to _like_ her in the weeks they had traveled together was laughable.

Marlene had not expected more than that. It would been _ridiculous_ to. No one fell in love after so short a time together, least of all two people in their circumstances. She knew that.

But some part if her had, possibility still did, believe at least a few if his words to be truly kind. Even if his smiles had almost never reached his eyes, looking back; surely Asahi was not so cold a person as to make the past month a lie from whole cloth.

And yet when she played their last conversation back through her mind, _including_ the vision of his past she’d experienced; his parting venom rang true. Purer than anything he had uttered before, at least to her.

His hate for Doma, for the peoples of Eorzea, was very real. And terribly potent. Asahi _believed_ in the goal of Garlemald to crush any opposition they encountered. Even if it meant the wholesale slaughter of innocent men, women and children. Worse, he _embraced_ it.

The thought turned her stomach and left her miserably queasy long after the sun had set. Her eyes were dry by then, but sore. Marlene thanked whatever gods were listening that none of the others had come looking for her.

She’d been played. Bought and sold like the families and single youths who pleaded for succor at Gridania’s closed gates.

 _It isn’t the first time_ , a voice within her mind whispered. _This one only had to smile and say a few kind words to have you eating out of his palm._

 _“Enough.”_ Marlene snapped at the air, arms tight around her knees. Her voice was awful. Thick and watery. She scrubbed at her face with her fists, trying to take a little bit of comfort from the stinging of it.

At least it was a pain she inflicted on herself. One she could control.

“I am a _Warrior of Light_.” She continued, trying to inject a bit of strength into her voice. “And he… _he does not own me._ ”

It helped, a little.

Asahi was gone, back to Garlemald. She had given him herself, but none of Hien’s plans for Doma and the Resistance. _That_ had to mean something, at least.

* * *

“Are you _still_ crying over him?” Jordine drawled irritably, arms braced his knees and tail thumping beside him. Marlene starts at the sound of his voice, rubbing at her eyes and sliding her glasses back on as quickly as she can without hitting herself in the eye.

She knows that if she looks up at him then Jordine will see the redness of her eyes, so she doesn’t.

“No.” She tells him instead. Reaching for the books Y'Shtola had asked her to retrieve, Marlene keeps her gaze lowered as she stands. “There’s nothing to cry about. It isn’t like we’ll run into one another again.”

Jordine’s boots scuff the floor as he shifts. “He _will_ be coming back.” The red mage points out dryly. “As ambassador, he will be sent out to finalize these supposed _peaceable terms_. And when he does,” Jordine pauses, studying her through narrowed eyes. “He is likely to target you again. What will you do then?”

She doesn’t want to think about it. The very notion of being in the same room with Asashi sas Brutus fills her chest up to the brim with brambles.

“It won’t happen again.” Marlene insists, straightening her back. With a deep breath she makes to walk past Jordine, set only on the goal of giving Y'Shtola her books and distracting herself from this upsetting conversation.

It comes as a nasty shock, then, when Jordine kicks her foot out from under her. Marlene falls with a cry of surprise and pain, the spines and corners of her burden digging into her chest and shoulder when she lands on the books. Her glasses slip away in the clutter, reducing the world to a blurry smear of colors.

Jordine stands, on her in an instant. His claws dig into her shoulder as he turns forcefully turns her over. Her sight fills with bright crimson and white as he straddles her middle and pins her back with his forearm across her collarbone.

He’s heavy, warm and well-muscled. Her attempts to push him away are met with iron resistance that sows panic under her skin. Opening her mouth she intends to - do what? Call for help? Scream? She doesn’t know.

Jordine clamps a powerful hand over her mouth, slitted blue eyes pitiless.

“You’ve got no spine, girl.” He tells her flatly, the tips of his claws pressing harsh divots into her cheek. His tail sways behind him, a blurry streak of white at the edge of her vision. “sas Brutus will chew you to pieces and spit out the leavings once he’s had his fill of you.”

Anger flares inside her from somewhere deep and nameless. She follows it, digging her teeth as best she can into Jordine’s palm. He bares down harder, forcing her jaw down at a painful angle. Her sound of protest is muffled, the prick of tears gathering at the corners of her eyes.

Jordine leans down, the fuzzy details of his expression sharpening into perfect clarity as he stops a hare’s breadth from her nose. His eyes are cold, tone matter of fact when he speaks again.

“You were a _fool_ to let him that close in the first place. You _know_ that now. But _knowing_ doesn’t do you any good unless you _do something_ with it.”

The pressure on her mouth lets up but Jordine’s mouth replaces his hand. Marlene can’t jerk back as she wants to. There is only the solid boards of the floor underneath them, with no give at all. Jordine’s kiss is rough - teeth and tongue stripping away whatever defense she tries to conjure. When Marlene attempts to turn her head he curls calloused fingers into her hair and _jerks_ , drawing a pained cry from her and pulling her head back.

He pushes her blouse open with ease after slipping the buttons free with his other hand. The length of his claws raking over her skin sends ice shooting through her insides. Her legs kick uselessly for a moment as Jordine mouths a path down her neck, marking tender skin with the sharp points of his teeth.

Her hand moves of its own accord, blindly striking him. Jordine pulls back with a grunt, still close enough for her to make out the frosty approval in his expression.

“You finally fight back.” He shakes his head, tufted ears folding back as though they hurt. Perhaps she’d smacked one when she’d struck him. At the moment she can’t bring herself to feel bad about it.

 _“Get off of me.”_ Marlene shoves at him. His chest and shoulders hardly move.

 _“Make me.”_ Jordine retorts coldly. “You’ll roll over the instant sas Brutus smiles at you again. He’ll use you and leave you to cry in the dust. And you’ll _cry_ about it. All you know how to do is _cry_ about things.”

“Shut up!” Her hand moves, intending to strike him again. Jordine smacks it away, mouth on hers again and a red haze settles over her senses then.

Marlene bites, scratches, digs her fingers into the soft flesh at the base of his delicate ears. When he jerks back she drives the heel of her hand into Jordine’s jaw, knocking his head back. She comes back to herself halfway across the room, breathing hard as Jordine slowly picks himself up from the sprawl she’d knocked him into.

His tail lashes from side to side like an agitated beast’s, one hand pressing against the spot on his jaw where she’d struck him.

“Not bad.” He muses, voice surprisingly soft. Rubbing at the sore spot he lets his shoulders drop, all hostility leaving him. “You do that and you might be alright.”

Marlene watches the blurry shape of him stoop and pick something up off the floor. She hesitates when he offers it to her, squinting to try and discern the object itself.

Her glasses.

Jordine stands perfectly still until she takes them back, dropping his arm to his side once she’s slid them back up her nose.

“Don’t wait until it gets that far to fight back.” Jordine says flatly, digging around for something in his coat. “sas Brutus won’t give you any sort of advantage to work with. He’s enough like a Garlean in spirit to be that domineering and full of himself.”

Marlene folds her arms tightly around herself, watching uneasily as Jordine draws a knife out of his coat. “Is that why you…” She trails off, swallowing thickly.

“You’re a pretty woman.” He tells her simply, offering her the knife handle first. She cannot name the expression on his face, but the awful sort of fact in his voice tells her enough. “In Garlemald you would be considered exotic.” Jordine pauses, something crossing his face. “You don’t deserve what happens to pretty women in the Empire. No one does.”

She takes the handle of the knife uncomfortably, more alarmed by its gleaming edge than comforted by it. Marlene swallows, looking up as Jordine strips off his coat and tosses it aside. He unbutton his shirt next, shrugging it off.

His chest is a network of scars but one in particular catches her eye. An old gunshot wound, just below his heart. The exit wound, if the pattern of scar tissue was any indication.

“Hold the knife like this.” His fingers close around hers without preamble, his presence filling the space around her. He angled the blade up, the point pressing into the space between his forth and fifth rib. “And aim here. If you can. Even a stomach wound will suffice if you aren’t confident. Don’t aim for the neck. That’s too small a target for someone your height.”

“Couldn’t you have just told me?” Marlene shuddered, wanting nothing more than to let go of the knife. His hand keeps hers in place.

Jordine’s eyes bore into her, no longer as cold but not warm either. “Would you have really listened?”

* * *

The return to Doma came sooner, yet somehow later than Asahi had expected. The Emperor’s plans were his own and Garlemald’s politics moved at a pace near set in stone. But when Varis zol Galvus commanded it, Asahi gathered what he needed and took his seat in the airship proudly.

A _pity_ the Emperor’s prized beast had to accompany him. But so long as things went according to plan there would be no reason to worry.

Asahi smiled kindly at the retinue assembled to greet him. At the head of the group was none other than Lord Hien himself. A handful of Eorzea’s champions as well, Asahi noted. The au ri woman who seemed to be the Warrior’s leader gave him a particularly chilly greeting, her bow toeing the line between too stiff and polite.

He smiled the whole way to the manor serving as Hien’s base, assuring the grizzled samurai that the trip had been a pleasant one. Behind them trailed the Emperor’s beast, silent as a grave.

His first glimpse of Marlene was something close to an accident. This time Asahi could not help but perk up a little, the smile he wore gaining a faint edge. Marlene looked up as he was stepping over the threshold, her expression losing some of the preoccupied composure it previously held.

A savage she might be, below him in all ways by the merit of her filthy birth, but gods did she look pleasing in green. She cannot leave, it would be impolite with guests entering the manor. Asahi gives her a kindly inclination of his head as though they were familiar with one another and follows Hien’s path into the building.

Asahi does not see Marlene again until dinner, but the room is full and they are seated too far apart to make conversation. Marlene does not look at him once during the meal, smiling and chatting with her companions or members of Hien’s household.

Just as well, Asahi thinks. There will be time later to poke and prod the wound he left her with.

* * *

The hall Marlene walks along after dinner is easy to follow her down. Marlene’s steps are light, meant to be courteous to anyone trying to take their ease in the rooms she passes. Asahi’s are silent as he closes the distance between them. Taking her by the shoulder he pushes aside the sliding door and shoves her in, snapping the door closed behind himself.

It is empty and dark in the room. Likely uninhabited for some time, considering the lack of tatami mats on the floor. She stumbles, trying to get her bearings and it is all just so _perfect_ he could laugh.

Asahi pulls her around by the wrist, drawing her flush against him, covers her mouth with his own. She tastes like sake and he licks at the seam of her lips to savor the quick in-drawn breath she lets slip.

“Missed this, have you?” Asahi murmurs, taking advantage of the difference in their heights and build to steer her back towards the wall. “How like a _beast_ you are.”

He sneers at the unsteady shove Marlene gives, but feels genuine surprise and a little bit of pleasure at the strength behind the move. Every step backwards is one he has to fight for, each one reluctant as she is forced to give ground. She’s improved her balance in the time he has been in Garlemald. But the room is dark as pitch and she does not know a traditional Doman room from memory as he does.

 _“Let go of me.”_ Marlene warns, hissing when Asahi catches her bottom lip between his teeth and bares down. Asahi trails his fingers over the ties and buttons of her clothes, confounded and faintly frustrated by the foreign design.

“Do you despise me so?” Drawing back so that he can laugh, Asahi nudges her legs apart with his knee. “We had such entertaining nights together, _eikon-slayer_.” He taunts, pleased to have found the warmth of her skin at last.

“Has anyone else touched you?” He asks, voice lowering. “That is how it goes for _savages_ , is it not? Or do I retain the pleasure of being your _first_ and _only_?”

Marlene’s laugh, sharp and breathless, catches him off guard somewhat. So too does the wind of her fingers around his nape, the tight clasp of her hand grabbing his lapel.

“You think so highly of yourself, do you?” Her face is close, breath warm and sweet over the skin of his neck. Asahi’s spine tingles with the sound of her voice so near.

“Is it not _shameful_ for you to desire a _savage_ as blatantly as you do?” Marlene lifts her thigh, pressing it against the stiffness of his cock - discernible even through the layers of his uniform. She laughs as Asahi grits his teeth, at once tempted to rock into the warmth of her and to backhand the silhouette of her face.

She shoves him back with all her might, causing him to trip over his own feet as he tries to process this change in the air. He’d felt her shudder between him and the wall. Felt certain that victory was his.

The cloth of her shirt hangs loose, baring her flesh in the moonlight that creeps through the poorly shuttered window. Marlene pins it back into place with an arm across her chest, back still against the wall but without any fear of him.

“You’re _pathetic_.” She tells him, tone warring with itself. There is anger, yes, but something that might be hurt as well. “ _Get out_ before I _make_ you. Come near me again and I will not be responsible for the injuries you incur.”

Asahi curls his fingers into fists, glaring at the shape of her. Fury burns in his veins but it is clear that things are not the same between them. Her warning is very real. If he wants to carry out the Emperor’s plan then such _amusements_ will have to be driven from his mind.

“Very well.” Asahi breathes out tightly, straightening up in the dark. “May you have pleasant dreams, _Marlene_.” He spits the syllables of her name like a curse, turning to leave. Beyond the door he’d so hastily shut is another surprise. The watchful golden eyes of his detested companion, Varis’ favored assassin, bore into him.

Suppressing a shudder, Asahi strides from the room with self-assured with an air of leisure he does not truly feel.

Marlene watches him go, breathing deep, then finally allows herself to sink down to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varis' favored assassin belongs to a dear friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Asahi's a dick. I love him. Simone and Akemi belong to a dear friend of mine.


End file.
